


Bittersweet Biology

by Rhyaen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha Severus Snape, Alpha/Omega, F/M, Innocent Hermione, Mediwizards, Older Man/Younger Woman, Omega Hermione Granger, Omegaverse, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Snarky Snape, Student/Teacher, explicit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-10 17:45:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17430578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhyaen/pseuds/Rhyaen
Summary: Hermione is excited to start a mediwizard apprenticeship in a newly restored Hogwarts. One night, all alone in the dark, she is stalked by something terrifying that catches her scent.At Hogwarts, she encounters both old and new professors, including the still bitter Potions Professor and her dear Transfiguration head of House.She comes to discover a part of her magical biology she never suspected she had in her.This is a Severus Snape/Hermione Granger ABO college fic set in Hogwarts.Slow burn





	1. Chapter 1

Blood trickled down her jaw and sizzled as it hit the fresh snow below.  

All that could be seen of Hermione Granger was her form crouched in the semi-darkness, muscles contracting as her innards heaved to bring up dribbles of vivid, red-stained bile.

She brought her palms up to rest on the scratchy bark of the tree in front of her as her retching finally stopped. White snowflakes fell in her eyes and a few caught on her lashes.

The owl perched on the branch above her blinked slowly, eyes flashing in the night like the headlights of a car.

_One-Two-One Two-One Two One Thr--_

Her breathing paused as the crispy snow crunched in the blackness behind her.  Romeon’s wings whipped the air violently as he leaped off the branch and disappeared into the night. As the crunching continued, she tried not to choke on whatever fluid remained in her mouth.

A growl.

Frost seeped into her quivering heart, leaked into her arteries and froze her in place.

Hermione was paralyzed.

A werewolf was behind her, having caught the smell of her blood.  

Fenrir Greyback was long gone, but she had never been able to think of lycanthropes without calling forth the image of his flashing teeth and cruel eyes.  _I'd say I'll get a bite or two, wouldn't you?_

 Her attempts at moving her limbs or reaching for her wand were useless. She wondered if the werewolf was also a wizard who had wandlessly petrified her.

She felt the creature’s presence behind her, and felt it inhale the scent of her puked up blood.

Silence overcame them as she waited for the lycanthrope to strike, though the cogs of her mind never stopped turning. She knew a few wandless, nonverbal spells. Now was not a good time to reprimand herself for not bothering to properly learn to cast them.

She waited

 

And waited

 

And when she collapsed under the weight of her tensed-up muscles, she knew it was gone.

 

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

The Infirmary at Hogwarts had a stagnant smell, like it was cleaned with plain water instead of disinfectant. Hermione rubs the nape of her neck and smoothes down the front of her robes before making her way towards the stairs at the end of the hallway.

Although she had reason to visit the _hospital_ wing many times as a student, this was the first time she set eyes on it following the repair overhaul Hogwarts underwent after the war.

Poppy Pomfrey greets her with an affectionate hug. Her intelligent blue eyes and graying hair gave off a sense of familiarity that helps ease the nervousness that overcomes Hermione.

“I’m glad you’re giving Hogwarts’ Healing Center a chance, Hermione.  Pursuing mediwitch training at St Mungo’s might have seemed like a better choice, but I assure you Headmistress McGonagall has gone through long lengths to make sure our mediwizard center is on par with some of the best in the country. “

The new Healing Center was all clean, white hallways with high walls and doors embedded into the wall every few steps.

“You’ll be training with fellow mediwizards your first year and depending on how well you do on your written exams, as well as in your magical prerequisites, you’ll follow through more specialized studies. I’ve been appointed head of the Nursing Department… which means I’ll be instructing young mediwizards such as yourself the basics of wand healing, topical application of healing potions and the minutiae of healer-patient interaction. You’ll meet your other professors soon enough.”

Hermione nods, thanking Poppy and clambers up to her new rooms.

 

Hermione’s eyes dart across what is to become her living quarters for the better part of the coming year.

_Not overly different from the private rooms of a Head Girl._

She spends an hour rearranging the bed, desk and rest of the furniture to her liking, lining up the books she brought with her on the shelves, opening up her files and color coding the notes she had taken over the past two years.

Her first week at HHC feels somehow no different than any other she’d had before, even though she knows it should.

It’s all the same, wake up at six, shower before the washrooms become a hub of early morning gossip, head down to breakfast, visiting old classes, to lunch, to old classes, to dinner, to her dorms to change and then off to bed.

It’s mindless.

Or it should be, if Hermione could stop thinking about  _it._

That _thing_ that chose not to eat her alive while blood oozed down her throat.

 

 

A few nights later, Hermione is out at a wizarding pub catching up with Harry and Ron.

They laugh as Hermione looks miserably down at the rum filled cup.

“It just tastes so foul. Why would I even enjoy imbibing this crap? I can get drunk on something a lot less…concentrated. It smells like something Miss Pomfrey would use to disinfect wounds”

Ron dodges one of the dancing, sweaty bodies and leans back against their table “Because you’ve been acting like a sissy all through the night and we need you to let go. Now.” He crosses his arms and shoots Hermione a goofy grin.

She rolls her eyes, and give in. She didn’t quite anticipate how _bad_ she actually needed the crazy night Harry and Ron were proposing.

 

A few hours later, Hermione, in all her drunken glory, opens the book on her night stand and decides that brushing up a bit on her anatomy won’t be a bad idea right now.

The blurred letters tell her otherwise.

 

—————————————————

 

 

_…We mustn’t share secrets that aren’t ours to share, Minerva.”_

Clipped and… sliky, she thinks.

Hermione snaps her anatomy book shut at the sound of the voice.

She walks out of her dorms, into the media-wizard apprentice common room, trying not to trip on the armor to her left. The voices were coming from the hallway outside.

She walks in on Professor McGonagall and a tall looking wizard. She had owled her previous transfiguration professor earlier that week, and was surprised to see her professor back to Hogwarts so early (McGonagall had told Hermione she was not in the country and would be back when apprenticeships were to begin.).

It takes her brain a few seconds to realize the man next to her is none other than _Professor Snape_.

McGonagall whips around at the sound of Hermione’s drunken stumble, her uptight bun whishing through the air in a graceful _wooooooosh_.

 _Woooooosh_ thinks Hermione, holding back a laugh bubbling its way out her chest. She shakes her head, trying to clear the haze she knows she’s currently in.

Maybe she shouldn’t have given in to the rum.

Professor Snape turns around as well, his face as sour as ever as he barely gives her a glance.

“…don’t even fathom the notion of sharing this information Minerva. Do not repeat that old fool’s mistake” he says in a cold, shard-ice voice, looking back to Professor McGonagall.

Hermione is surprised to see her former Potions Professor, but she knows she shouldn’t. She hadn’t visited Hogwarts after that deadly battle two years ago. She had heard that Professor Snape had survived, but was surprised to see him, nonetheless.

She wonders if her former professor recognizes her at all. _All the better if he doesn’t, I won’t have to deal with his constant bullying_. Being Harry Potter’s best friend had its consequences after all. Professor Snape’s newfound Byronic Hero status did not change his hatred for Harry, and Harry did not expect it to.

It took another few seconds for Hermione to notice that the two adults were still conversing, and then that Professor McGonagall was speaking to her.

“…and Miss Granger, I know apprentices have no restrictions as to what time they leave the castle, but please do refrain from staying up late the night before your first day” she says, her grey eyes hardening in displeasure.

Professor Snape finally seems to fully notice Hermione. He faces her, taking in her lime-green robes. His eyes linger on the emblem stitched on her chest.  A wand and bone, crossed.

 “The Granger chit. A mediwizard.  How pre _dict_ able.” he says to McGonagall.

So, he _did_ recognize her. She internally curses.

“I see your two other pets aren’t here to cause any mischief. Although, I do believe the Granger girl is nuisance enough on her own, seconded only by that insufferable Weasley child.”

It’s been 2 years since she last saw Snape, but Hermione still doesn’t like the way he talks as if she isn’t standing right there.

 

 “You will not speak of my former students in this manner, Severus” Professor McGonagall glares daggers at the man before rolling her eyes. “You will be seeing her in your Potion 220 class, I assume. You _are_ taking Chemical Basis of Medicinal Potions, are you not Miss Granger?”

Professor Snape shoots Hermione a look so sour she wants to apologize.

Hermione nods and looks away, wanting to meet neither the pale nor the dark pair of eyes currently fixated on her.  

She awkwardly pushes back curls that fall down on her cheeks, turning to leave, trying to walk properly as she feels her mind begin to clog up.

The Potions Master narrows his black beady eyes in suspicion. 

“The Granger girl should avoid imbibing substances which further impair her already lagging reflexes. I wouldn’t trust her with a scalpel” came the silky jibe.

The _Granger girl_ turns around, finally lifts her chin up, looking straight at Professor Snape’s face. However, she isn’t brave enough to look _into_ the eyes of the older man, opting to scrutinize the pale stretch of flesh between them, still finding the authority his eyes carry intimidating.

Before she musters up the courage to defend herself, his eyes flick to the wand-bone on her front and they narrow this time in what appear to be accusatory judgment. So do Professor McGonagall’s.

_Great_

 McGonagall frowns “Surely, Miss Granger, you do not need your Potions Professor telling you why excessive alcohol consumption can be harmful to your body. You’re off to become a mediwizard after all.”  

_Color me surprised_

Hermione says nothing, just nods, annoyed at what her Transfiguration professor notices _only because of him._

What a great start to her mediwizard apprenticeship.

She frustratingly swivels around, fighting hard to regain her composure like she always does, and unceremoniously trips on Professor Snape’s dark robes before falling flat on her face. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must say, I did not expect this story to completely flop, but I did not expect such nice comments this quickly! Here's a chapter I tried to upload as quickly as possible.

 

    Of course, no attractive, fictitious young man apparates out of thin air to catch Hermione’s fall.

She thinks her nose breaks as she hears it undoubtedly  _crunch_ beneath her. She should be able to name the bones and cartilage that crack, having spent _t_ _wo?_ _three?_ hours reviewing them not too long ago.

_The nasal septum is made up of cartilage towards the front of the nose, and bone towards the back. Parts of four different bones make up the bony septum: the ethmoid bone, vomer, the, the-_

It takes Hermione a while to register the pain, but when she does, it's very sudden and she feels it _everywhere_. She's definitely broken more than _cartilage_.  She pulls herself onto her side and groans, clutching her stomach.

 

Professor Snape snatches out the tips of his robes, still caught beneath her quivering body.

“I’d rather avoid getting my robes splattered with fragments of _obnoxious Gryffindor,_ thank you very much”.

“Severus! She’s hurt” exclaims the transfiguration professor in anger, kneeling down to help Hermione up.“I thought I forbade you to speak to my students that way!”

Hermione looks gratfully at the woman and tries to stand on her own. She moves her hand out of her nose, looks down and isn’t really surprised it's drenched red. Her lips have suffered as well, she feels the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. She knows it won’t be long before her eye starts to swell.

“…as Headmistress, you are to respect what I say! I am sick and tired of this behavior!”

Professor Snape doesn't respond, looking blankly at his colleague. 

“…In fact, since you seem so _delighted_ by the prospect of bullying a nearly 20-year-old woman, why don’t you escort her to the infirmary?”

Hermione staggers, head spinning from the alcohol and the fall on her head. Professor McGonagall wraps one of her arms around her neck, holding the girl firmly upright.

Snape's brows shoot up  once he registers what the Headmistress asks of him.  "I don't appreciate your humorless attempt at pleasantry, Minerva. I have things to do, _you are aware of that_ , I do not have the time - _nor the desire_ \- to babysit your precious Gryffindor.”

“I assure you, my dear Severus, that I am not kidding. You will take Miss Granger to the infirmary, make sure she’s alright and apologize to her, or else Hogwarts won’t need a war-broken Potions Master anymore, _Snape_.”

Professor Snape doesn’t respond but tenses up. The dark haired man cautiously eyes up the woman 20 years his senior, her graying hair, angry eyes and wrinkled face. He stares at the woman for a while, his body completely still.

He abruptly turns to the right in a billow of robes and heads down the hallway. The wizard stops once he sees that Hermione is still clutched to her Transfiguration Professor. 

“I do not have all night, Miss Granger.”

“She cannot walk alone in this state. Come over here and take her off my shoulder.” clips the older woman.

“Why, I would be positively _delighted_ to offer my war-broken shoulder as substitute for yours, Minerva” he replies, a smile on his lips . Hermione winces. It’s the scariest thing she has ever seen, his smile looks more startling than the slits that once graced Voldemort’s face.

“It’s fine, Professor McGonagall, I can-“

She never gets a chance to finish her sentence, because in a few firm strides, the Potions Master is by her side. He crouches down- _he’s a very tall man,_ she automatically notices -  and loops her am around his neck in very automated, short, movements.

The  Slytherin Head of House doesn’t spare Professor McGonagall another glance, dragging Hermione out the hallway. _Oh, Professor Snape's definitely angry_.

Hermione can’t help but think that all this really has nothing to do with her- _surely even Snape doesn’t hate her that much, he barely knows her_. Hermione’s brain works a hundred miles an hour as she remembers how tense both wizards were before she walked in on them.There always has been a rivalry between the Gryffindor patron and the Potions Professor, but now they were bristling, skittering around each other - _or around some **thing -**_ on a tightly pulled string. _Something’s up, and I will find out what is making them so jittery._

They mentioned something about sharing dangerous information. Hermione knew that she would not be getting any sleep tonight, her mind would latch on to every word of their conversation, analyzing each and every single one, shifting them around in her brain.

 

The walk towards the infirmary is a silent, long one. She barely hears the older man breathe.

_Surely, he must be out of breath, walking as fast as he is, dragging my body along with him?_

She’s too intimidated to ask him to slow down. She doesn’t feel him against her, oddly enough. The only contact he allows is her arm around his nape, over his dark hair. She almost jolts in surprise once she realizes how silky soft his raven hair actually is, sliding under her elbow, his locks shifting against the skin of her arm, matching his quickened pace. 

She remembers something along the lines of _greasy haired-dungeon bat_ back from her years as a teenager. She wonders what Ron and Harry would think if they saw her now.  

 

He abruptly stops, pulling her off him. She stumbles a bit as he slips beneath her arm, and she catches herself on the outside wall of the infirmary. “We have arrived. Pomfrey will be out shortly.” He turns away without looking at her, intent on leaving her there.

“You can’t leave me here!” She squeaks, then catches herself “Sir”. He whips around, his black eagle eyes trained on her in exasperation. He looks at her and-

_Why is he looking at the blood on my chin that way?_

In a few short strides, Professor Snape slides over to her.

“If an unwarranted apology is to be forced out of me, _so be it_. Miss Granger, I apologize for wanting to avoid tainting my robes with your insufferable obnoxiousness.” His voice drips vitriol. “If I had it my way, you must have been punished for wandering the halls in a drunken state at half past two in the morning - _I don’t care if you aren’t a student anymore_ \- and for eavesdropping on _very confidential information_.”

Hermione looks at him in shock. How petty does this man get? Does he not get tired of all the bullying? People thought he would change after the war. He did change, she thinks, because even the Snape of back then wasn’t this bitter.

“How much have you heard? I demand to know, _now_ ”

Hermione decides that he has no right to demand things of her and treat her like a child. She balls her fists and refuses to respond, holding back the _very colorful_ retorts that threaten to slip out her mouth, knowing she will regret disrespecting a Professor once she sobers up.  

His 1.9m figure looms over her much smaller frame. He looks at the blood trickling down her chin, as if remem-

Professor Snape then obliviates her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins. 
> 
> I loved your comments last chapter, please do share more of your thoughts, they really do get me excited to write more. Thanks to all who left kudos on the first chapter !


	3. Chapter 3

Snape has been in a foul mood ever since the end of last term.

Ever since _ever_ , really.

He is moodier than usual and blames it on the new suppressants Minerva insists he brew.

He had brewed ( _and_ perfected, naturally) his very first vial after months of hunting down old magical and muggle texts. And now his beloved _Headmistress_ was ordering him to change the formula that had taken him years to perfect.

His new suppressants were stronger, but the side effects were nauseating, draining, _frustrating_ ; their counteracting chemicals _leeching_ on the most important organ he could boast to possess: his brain.

 Snape would _not_ allow his emotions to fizzle all over the place. _He would not allow it_.

He grips the stone wall in front of him, knuckles turning white, as his entire body shudders under another onslaught of cramps.  His body is as tight and as hard as a spider’s steel-like silk, fighting to regulate the changing chemicals and hormones in his body.

 _Glorious, wonderful biology_.

Dumbledore was a goddam fool.  Snape curses the moment he ever acquiesced to the old man’s delirious plan. He wouldn’t have to endure _this_ had he fought against the dead man’s ridiculous whims.  

He is cursed as long as he remains at Hogwarts _\- he rolls his eyes_ \- given what Minerva demands of him now. Recent events have been alarming, but he will refuse to be dragged into anything.

Over the years, he has learnt to accept the fact that he must face this... _predicament_ alone.  

 _...not anymore_  purrs his blasted subconscious.

Snape’s hand twitches as he forces the voice out, mildly alarmed it was able to seep through the block in his mind. This was the first time in two years since it had done so. _No matter_ , he would school it away. He always did. He would gain total control over it, like he did with every other thing in his life.  

In his distraction, Snape barely notices that the doors to his quarters are open. He pulls his wand out instantly, surveying the hallway around him.

He pushes the door open with the toe of his boot, scanning the interior as it swings open.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione wakes up to a body that feels a lot more battered down than it should. Her joints pop as she stretches, articulations and muscles stiffer than they should be for a girl her age. Still, she sighs in contentment as she groggily rolls over on her stomach, face buried in her arms, soft light from the window spilling into the room of the Infirmary.

She inhales and exhales deeply, forcing her stiff muscles to relax. She noses her way over her skin, taking in the pleasant scent beneath her, her face unconsciously drifting towards the crook of her elbow.  

Miss Pomfrey discharges her after an hour, her entire face back to normal after being mended by the nurse the night before. The nurse had taken her time, showing Hermione how she flicked her wand, explaining the differences between salves, clearing out the medical theory behind her actions.

Hermione thinks it was very considerate of her.

“Hematomas are basically contusions in which capillaries and sometimes venules are damaged. The blood seeps into the surrounding interstitial tissue. You knew this already, of course.”

Hermione had nodded in agreement.

“Yes, but do you know how magic fits into all this? These salves all contain Boomslang Skin – very rich in collagen, as you’ll learn in your class with Professor Snape I believe. It’s healing properties are 5 times faster than the regular muggle cream you'd have used.”Hermione’s eyes had widened in interest. Miss Pomfrey had chuckled. “You will learn all about how magic changes amino acid properties in your 220 class, Miss Granger, do not fret.”

 

As Hermione walks out the Infirmary, she passes by that spot on the wall where Professor Snape had left her the night before. She cringes in embarrassment as she remembers how inebriated she was that night. In front of the Headmistress and Hogwarts’ most intimidating professor, no less. 

She didn’t remember much and didn’t expect to, given her alcohol-induced escapade. What she _did_ remember was how unpleasant Professor Snape had been. At least he had waited with her by the wall until Miss Pomfrey had come out. She had looked at Hermione’s face in shock - _was it really that bad? -_  before dragging her in.  

She just  _has_ to include the bizarre interaction with Professor Snape in her next letter to Harry. He would appreciate the fiery paragraph dedicated to the head of slytherin, she thinks, a small smile on her lips.  She must also apologize to Professor McGonagall, having walked in on _very confidential information_ as Professor Snape had put it. The memory there was fuzzy. Of course, her thoughts were bound to blur, given all the rum that was burning through her system.

But that tipsy feeling seems to be attached to another completely unrelated memory, pulling her like a string to the memory of _something_ that had happened one night several days ago. Had she gotten drunk with Harry and Ron and forgot about it?

She **must** investigate this feeling further. But before she gives herself time to brainstorm over it too much, Hermione is suddenly remembering that this is supposed to be her first day as an apprentice.

She rushes towards her dorms.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joachim Crossman

Ash blond hair and green eyes, he was about a head taller than Hermione. She thinks she hears an accent as he speaks.

 _He seems nice_.  A Muggleborn like her but interested in Potion Healing rather than Mediwizardry itself.

 He’d introduced himself to her in the common room, along with a string of other new faces. After having sprinted from the Infirmary, Hermione had found herself facing a wave of fresh new students spilling into the chamber. _Friendly, fresh and smart_.

 She'd been pleased to note that male and female apprentices all shared the same wing of the castle. She'd learnt that Joachim’s room was 4 doors ahead of her own and Hermione couldn’t help but think of Harry and Ron.

_If only those fools were still in Hogwarts._

Now in front of her, Joachim turns to face her, walking backwards, a lazy smile on his face. _A flirt as well?_

His intelligent eyes flick left and right as he tells her of the new  article he reads on his wizpad this morning, getting more excited as they make their way towards their first lecture.

 

Making friends who share her interests seems a lot easier than it ever was before. It makes sense, they’ve all chosen the same field of study. She also likes to think she has emotionally and socially matured since the war and is also more…. _accessible_ to the opposite sex.

She flashes him back a smile.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....and here’s another chapter.  
> For clarification:
> 
> A Wizpad is a single, one-layer- thick sheet of paper on which news articles can be read. Random texts appear on it magically everyday. It can be folded up and carried around in a pocket. Think of it as the magical precursor to modern day kindles.


	4. Chapter 4

Their first lecture is with one of the newer instructors, Professor Sallinski. She greets the class warmly, distributing the syllabus after scrawling her name on the board.

_SONYA SALLINSKI_

_TRANSFG. ANATOMY 215_

She sits behind her desk and anxiously arranges the objects resting on it.

“In this course, you’ll learn how Transfiguration can be linked to other muggle disciplines such as Anatomy and Physiology, and how this can be useful to you as future Healers.” She immediately states. The woman is middle aged, with shoulder length blond hair and an impressive list of accomplishments. _“Master in Transfiguration, Phd in muggle Anatomy, licensed to instruct Quidditch; to name a few”._

Hermione tries not to laugh as she watches Joachim roll his eyes. “You need a license to instruct quidditch?” he quips.

After Professor Sallinski’s lecture, they head towards the Nursing Department, Miss Pomfrey beaming as she welcomes the new students. She introduces herself then takes them round on a tour of the HHC, giving Hermione a knowing smile the entire time.

“Who’s this Snape we have Potion 220 with?” asks Joachim, looking down his schedule as they exist the HCC and head towards the dungeons.

“ _Professor_ Snape” Hermione blurts without thinking.

“He’s…definitely something. You’ll see”.

                                               ___________________________________________

Professor Snape is late, a first for him. Hermione wonders what could have held him back, but she quickly loses that train of thought when the door suddenly flies open, the man in question striding in.

The Slytherin’s entrance is as impressive as it was on her first day at Hogwarts. _She gives him that_

He prowls across the floor, fluid yet taut - _like a panther -_ black robes curling around his lithe figure.

The clamoring students turn quiet as he drops a heavy stack of paper on the desk with a loud _thud_. He flicks his hand towards the board; his spidery cursive flashing on the black slate stone, his handwriting as spiky as she remembers it to be. _Panther or spider?_  Hermione tries to guess his Animagus form. A _black bat?_

But just like a panther, he goes straight for the kill.

 “Take out your quills, you have a report due for next week. One meter’s worth of calipher scroll. No makeups for late returns.” He doesn’t give them the time to groan, raising his hand in silence.

“You are to list all chemical reactions that occur in the body upon ingestion of Skele-Gro.

You are required to write down all reagents, products and solvent used to brew this potion. You may choose which solvent to use.  _However_ , I expect a very thorough justification, _clearly_ stating the reasoning behind your choice.

If you do not include the spells needed to drive each reaction, you fail.

If you do not draw arrows depicting atomic flow between elements, you fail.

If I hear so much as a snidget’s squeak during today’s lecture, you fail.” The professor pauses.

 "I expect perfection in this class, seeing as you will be responsible for the lives of an entire generation of wizards. Being good isn’t enough, you must be _better._ The exams are very competitive, and if you wish to pass the Mediwizard Board Examinations, I suggest you excel in this course.

 _Am I clear_?” he asks, baritone ringing across rows of students. His eyes rake over the class, barely registering Hermione’s presence in the front row.

As if he hadn’t seen her last night.

As if he hadn’t _seen her drunk_ , _hadn’t dragged her body-_

 _Am I clear?_ She scoffs. He doesn’t expect an answer, not really, she knows this, she knows he _never_ stops to repeat-

She doesn’t know why she’s getting so riled up. Because of _Snape_ , of all people. She’s still tired, and achy, and her head hurts and _something happened last night_ -

Joachim nudges her. Professor Snape’s black eyes are narrowed down on her. _Crap, was he talki-_

“Anything you wish to share, Miss Granger? Please do enlighten us; my lecture o _b_ viously isn’t stimulating enough for some.”

Hermione says nothing.

He takes slow steps, boots tapping against the stone floor, nearing her table.  “How unfortunate that I may not deduct 20 points from Gryffindor.”

 He stops in front of her table. She inhales deeply, unconsciously scratching her elbow.  

 “10 points off your upcoming report, Miss Granger”

Hermione’s jaw aches with the effort she puts into not gritting her teeth.

“But sir-”

His eyes flash in warning “15 points off, Miss Granger.”

The retort quickly dies in her throat.

“It is quite disappointing to note that you have not grown up at all since your days of frolicking around with Potter and Weasley.”  He holds her eyes for a few more intense seconds.

Then his face becomes indifferent, and he stalks his way back towards the desk.

  _Her_ face flushes red in embarrassment and anger, heat boiling, rising up her body.

“As I was saying, whoever presents the most _adequate_ report will earn extra credit. They may also assist me with a demonstration next week.”

He then walks up to the board, picking up a chalk and starts writing. What happened to using magic?

He starts talking again.

Hermione doesn’t hear, not really, there’s a roaring in her ears, she’s _trembling with anger, with rage, or w-with something-_

_Something’s wrong with me._

                                                    ___________________________________________

Hermione feels fidgety for the rest of the day. If Professor Snape notices her zoning out again in his class, he thankfully doesn’t bring it up.

She lays sprawled on a sofa in the common room.

“Should I get you something Hermione? You’re _sweating_ so much.” Asks Rory, who she meets earlier during her class with Professor Sallinski. Rory is a fiery and forward young witch, exactly what Hermione needs in the absence of Ron and Harry.

Joachim walks out his room, a towel and a glass of water in hand. He hands the damp towel to Rory, who begins to tampon Hermione’s over-heated skin.  

“Hydrate yourself” whispers Joachim, crouching down and forcing the glass into her hand. “All this sweating is probably because of the cheap rum you drank last night. You haven’t exactly given yourself time to process your hangover” She offers him a weak smile, not telling him that Miss Pomfrey took care of that with a quick spell this morning.

“Hey, don’t worry. Rory and I are just a few doors away, if you need anything at night, don’t hesitate to wake either of us up.”

He copies their homework for tomorrow, something no one has even done for her before. _How ironic, the little miss know-it-all dependent on someone else for schoolwork._

They stick with her for most of the day, trying to lighten up her mood. She learns that her new friend’s name is actually pronounced  _Jo-wah-keem_ (“Or _Jo-a-kim_ for you Anglo-Saxons”) and she has half a mind to ask if he’s French and attended BeauxBatons.  Or happens to know a certain Fleur Delacour. She wonders if he’s part veela as well; he definitely looks like it, with his delicate features and pale hair.

 _I could ask if he’s related to the Malfoys,_  she thinks with a snort. 

                                                    ___________________________________________

“…the girl can’t be presenting, Minerva, she’s muggleborn” Snape hisses.

“I’m as surprised as you are, Severus. But the symptoms are there.”

“Well, I trust you will _enlighten_  her as you have the others. _I don’t want to be involved.”_

He turns to leave. He hears her sigh. 

“Wait, Severus. Ah, on the subject of presenting, what exactly did our _dear friend_ have to say to you last night?”

Snape doesn't respond. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really like how this chapter turned out. Sorry if the chapter isn't as descriptive or as fleshed-out as the first few. Meh, stories can do that sometimes. 
> 
> A/B/O tag is kicking off.  
> Please let me know what you think, this may be the last update in a while. Hermione isn't the only one dealing with the rigors of medschool *sigh*. I haven’t proofread this, forgive my mistakes.

**Author's Note:**

> ABO SS/HG fic that has been brewing in my mind for a while. Haven't seen this trope explored much, so here we go. The romance is definitely a slow burn, but don't worry, I intend to make the burn as sizzling and scorching as possible. Also, I must warn that when the smut does start out, it will be quite explicit.
> 
>  
> 
> Please do leave a comment and kudos if you wish to see more of this fic, as they motivate me to write when I feel lazy lol.


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